


those private rays of sunshine

by eraseallpicturesofron



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post canon, but he has his husband and his baby, just some soft stuff, magnus has had a long day, so everything is okay, whom he loves more than anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraseallpicturesofron/pseuds/eraseallpicturesofron
Summary: The day is an impossibly long one, with a fussy client, magic exhaustion, and complete and utter sleep deprivation feeling like the weight of the world on Magnus's shoulders. Alec and Max always make that all go away, though.





	those private rays of sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> first completed work since july? wow that's not sad :)

A mix of magic exhaustion and sleep deprivation sat like the weight of the world upon Magnus’s shoulders as he finally reentered the loft. He had prided himself on the decision to walk home rather than portal, but after seven blocks in the sleet, collapsing seemed to be his only option. 

Taking a client was a mistake, that he knew from the moment he had gotten the call, especially as the half hour consultation evolved into two hours and seventeen minutes (not that he’d been counting) of minor demon summoning and banishing. Hardly any magic was left to rush through his veins; he used a lot more than he remembered, and the past hours were all a blur.

Overwhelming tiredness was never a strange concept to Magnus, and he could have dealt with magic exhaustion had his entire body not ached: his head was pounding, his ears were ringing, and there was a crick in his neck from that morning, when he woke up after a half hour of sleep with his head resting on Alec’s shoulder in a way that seemed romantic when he’d fallen asleep.

The dim lights and unexpected silence of the loft might as well have been a welcome home banner as Magnus shut the door behind himself, tempted to collapse upon entry and wake up eight to ten hours later. 

Removing his jacket took off some of the literal weight off his back as he let it drop onto the rug with a muffled thud. Alec would have rolled his eyes at the sight, teasing him with something along the lines of “the coat-rack's really not that far, babe”, but hell, if Magnus wasn’t exhausted. He would pick it up in the morning. 

Not bothering to toe off his shoes, he trudged across the carpet, feet dragging and dead set on the bedroom before stopping short at the sight in front of him. An endearing one, indeed, as if the entire contents of his heart had been placed before him. 

Sprawled across the couch lazed Alec, gangling legs thrown about as one foot sat sock-less, propped up on the armrest, while the other grazed the floor, two toes sticking out of the hole in his faded sock. He wore the same old sweatpants he’d been wearing all day– once a deep black that faded to a tired grey from years of wear– which meant he too let his exhaustion keep him from doing much.

His hair was uncombed, as it had been for the past three days, and despite his daily promise of “I’m gonna shower and shave”, only half of that was ever completed. Dark stubble shaded the lower half of his face, and oh, Magnus shook his head, if the New York Institute could see him now.

Despite his strewn and utterly disheveled figure, Alec was still awake, and Magnus’s gaze moved to follow what his husband was looking up at, a sight that tugged at his heart, leaving him with a feeling in his chest that was so unlike the pain, frustration, and exhaustion that the day had given him. 

Max, their sweet baby of nearly two months, pillowed his head against Alec’s t-shirt. 

Ever since they had brought him home, Max had been so irritable, sleeping entirely unsoundly as he was so scared, so confused, so emotional. He would scream and cry until he couldn’t do more than cave to the exhaustion he brought on himself, falling asleep with his lips in a pout. 

If anything made Magnus and Alec feel like the worst father ever it was that– the utter lack of power they had in making their one and only child feel happy. Picking him up from his crib, they would rock him back and forth, peppering his head with kisses and whispers of “I love you, you’re safe, you’re okay, I love you, so, so, so much”, all to no avail. 

And yet, there Max slept, his pout an expression of the past as he rested atop his father’s chest. 

Alec’s eyelids drooped, his body urging him to sleep for more than fifteen minutes, though he fought back. The sight before him— their sweet baby boy with his unruly tufts of navy hair, budding horns poking through, and the river of drool that ran down his chin— was cause enough to stay awake.

His big, calloused hands— the hands of a bred warrior, meant to grip seraph blades, tug arrow strings, punch punching bags until his knuckles bled dry and fell numb— were the hands of a young father. One of them was placed upon Max’s back, a paradox as it lay both protectively and delicately, rising and falling with Max’s breathing. 

Max’s own hands were hardly the size of Alec’s nose, his fingers so tiny and bunching the worn fabric of Alec’s t-shirt in his grip as tight as he possibly could. There was still an inkling of that fear, his worry of being abandoned as if he remembered it all, but he clung to Alec like a moth to a flame.

Placing his hand over his heart, as if he was keeping it from beating out of his chest, Magnus finally crossed the room and lowered himself onto his knees beside the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Max’s head and to Alec’s temple.

“You two are surely a sight for sore eyes,” he whispered. 

Alec turned his head just enough to look at Magnus, though not enough to even cause Max to stir, and a lopsided smile crossed his face while his eyelids continued their crusade against sleep.

“Rough meeting?” he asked, though Magnus was quick to brush him off with the wave of a hand.

“Oh, you know how it is. Has he been asleep long?”

“Half hour, maybe.”

“You are so good, aren’t you?” Magnus cooed, kissing the top of Max’s curly-haired head once again, brushing his thumb delicately up and down the peeking out horns. 

Max shifted, just slightly, and Magnus froze in the fear that he would burst into tears. Everything was too good, and his day was already on a downward trajectory. It would be just his luck that he'd be the reason his son can't fall asleep for another few hours.

Instead, Max settled once more, nuzzling his cheek against Alec's chest and audibly exhaling, still calm in the presence of his fathers. 

"He's perfect," Alec mumbled, kissing the top of Max's forehead just as Magnus had.

Damn if that wasn’t true, Magnus thought to himself, as the weight seemed to fall off of his shoulders with every one of Max’s exhales.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3  
> kudos and comments let me know if you liked it :)))


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